Page 37
Story: The Duchess' Replacement
She was good at winning people over with her kind disposition when the occasion called for it. She could tell this seemed like the perfect time to lay it on thick.
Mr. Crowfelt grunted.
Sarah’s smile wavered. Not the response she was expecting.
Sarah looked at William who was nervously looking back at the coachman who was looking on with shocked eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Crowfelt. I fear I may have said something to upset you.”
The man snorted.
Sarah was losing patience. It was one thing to feel like she’s missing the bigger picture but it’s another thing entirely for a merchant to outright treat her like she’s not even there.
“Mr. Crowfelt, I must implore you to tell me of my offense. I just praised your meat-”
“It’s not my meat, Your Grace.” He spat.
Sarah’s mouth snapped shut.
“What your tongue when speaking to the Duchess.” William was no match for the surly butcher but Sarah admired his gravitas.
Sarah held a hand up to William. “It’s all right, William.”
She took a step closer to the butcher. “What do you mean it’s not your meat?” Sarah looked up and down the street. “Is there another butcher in this town?”
Mr. Crowfelt shook his head. “It’s just me, Your Grace. I help feed this entire town.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes in confusion. William rubbed his neck again, which clued Sarah in that she was touching upon a subject someone didn’t want her talking about.
And she knew exactly who that someone was.
Must his presence follow me everywhere!
She gave in at the modiste, but unlike Miss Cordell, Mr. Crowfelt felt like he would be willing to tell her what she wanted to know.
Sarah rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry, Mr. Crowfelt. If you don’t supply the estate with your meat, where does our meat come from?”
The man leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms across his wide chest.
William scoffed at the disrespectful gesture. It didn’t bother Sarah, she wanted to know what this man had to say more than she cared about the proper etiquette when speaking to someone of the peerage.
“You’ve been getting your meat and other foods, like your lovely fruits and vegetables, from other towns for awhile now, Your Grace.”
Exasperation and disbelief roared through her veins. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Crowfelt rolled his eyes, eliciting another huff from William. “I mean none of your food is from your duchy, Your Grace. His Grace has made deals with neighboring towns to supply the estate with food.”
Sarah scowled. “First of all, Mr. Crowfelt, it is not I who have been getting meat and food from other towns, it is the Duke. And I can assure you that will be changing at once.”
Mr. Crowfelt dropped his arms and stood straighter in the doorway. “Excuse me?”
Sarah rose her chin. “You heard me. I will personally see to it that you and your fellow merchants will supply us with our food. I cannot possibly fathom why the Duke would hinder your livelihood, his own people, like this but I will find out and,” she rose a finger in the air. “I will correct it.”
Sarah turned to William who looked pained standing there.
“I assume that my loving husband has something to do with why Miss Cordell has difficulty getting shipments from London and the like?”
William hemmed and hawed but Sarah didn’t have time for it. She returned her attention to Mr. Crowfelt.
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